Lover Dearest
by sandy2x400
Summary: You should have know he was lying when he said he wouldn't leave. And now, right when you have started to forget him, he's back again. Smitchie.
1. Prologue

"_Call me a safe bet__ - __I'm betting I'm not__. __I'm glad that you can forgive__; __I'm only hoping as time goes __y__ou can forget." __The Boy Who Blocked His Own Shot__ – Brand New_

**Lover Dearest**

**Prologue**

**Mitchie**

"Promise me you'll come back."

Shane looks at you with surprised eyes before lightly smiling and shaking his head. He pulls you close, kissing your forehead. You whimper against him, but snuggle into his warm body. "I'll come back at the end of summer, Mitchie. I promise." He says the last part mockingly. He looks so beautiful in this moment – his short hair is lost under his knit cap but the wind is blowing against his loose clothes, highlighting his growing muscles.

You smile at him and he scrunches his nose at you. You open your mouth to say something else, but you are suddenly interrupted. "Shane! You still here?" You feel Shane move away from you, his body angled towards the door as he hollers back to the newcomer. Another voice comes into mix as well. "GREY! Come out, come out wherever you are!" Nate and Jason, you realize with a smile. You watch Shane go back inside, going towards the front of the house. You stay on the deck for a couple minutes before following. The three best friends are already horsing around. "What? You think you're gonna become a world class singer or somethin', Shane?" Jason mocks, pulling him into a headlock.

Shane laughs and gets out of it. "It's just a summer camp, guys. I'm not leaving forever." He reminds them, but his eyes are dull. With a new smile, he reaches for you. Bringing you close to his chest, you inhale his sweet scent. "So, my last night in town. What are we gonna do?" he asks, biting his lip. His eyes become bright again.

You watch as Nate and Jason smile, almost wickedly the both of them, and suddenly they are pulling both you and Shane out of the door. Thirty minutes later, you find yourself in Nate's basement, snuggled up into Shane's body as Jason pulls out half a bottle of his parents' vodka. Thirty minutes after that, you are giggling uncontrollably as Nate tries to guess what the hell Jason is trying to act out in a spontaneous game of charades. Shane is softly kissing your cheek and hugging you way too tightly, and you suddenly feel like crying.

"Promise me you'll come back." You whisper in his ear as he slips an arm behind your back to bring you closer to him. He frowns at you and pulls you in for a kiss. You close your eyes at the softness of his lips, the sweetness of his breath, and the kindness of his kiss. He squeezes your hip gently.

"I love you." is his response against your mouth.

You nod into the kiss, causing him to smile at the awkwardness since he was still kissing you. "Let's go upstairs?" you ask hesitantly. He backs away and looks at you with an almost innocent expression.

"Why?" he leans his head against the sofa. Ignoring the laughter from the other two boys, the environment felt almost romantic to you. You have grown up with Shane – this boy who is so unbelievably talented with a guitar and with a voice that could melt hearts. He looks so naively cute and bright that makes your heart go fluttering. He is your boy. He has always been your boy, and now you are both sixteen, and you just want him to know you love him before he leaves. Because you still aren't sure he's coming back.

And maybe this will make him stay.

So you lead him upstairs, ignoring the catcalls from Jason and Nate, and give him everything you can possibly give, because he deserves it and he loves you and he _has_ to come back when he's done with Camp Rock. "Promise me you'll come back." You whisper into his naked shoulder much later, your teeth grazing his skin. He freezes and kisses you again. The kiss is desperate and absolutely breath-taking and painful and harsh. He pushes you into the bed forcibly, but not altogether that roughly. When he breaks the kiss, his eyes are glazed.

"I love you." he repeats. You feel warm and he is heavy on top of you, and the world is spinning. For a second, you feel like screaming.

"Promise me."

"I will come back." He says over you, his eyes fierce. "I don't know why you think I won't." he whispers, squirming a bit. You look at him, your sad eyes never leaving his features. Honestly, you think to yourself, that's a good question. Why do you feel like he's not coming back? He has to finish high school, doesn't he? He has friends here – best friends even – doesn't he? He has you, doesn't he? Yes, yes, and definitely yes.

But at the same time, you remember seeing the same look in your father's eyes last year when he left: the one that says – screams – LET ME OUT OF THIS FUCKING TOWN.

And here he is- getting out town, going to a prestigious music camp where who knows what can happen. "Don't forget, okay?" you tell him fiercely.

Shane smiles and shakes his head. "I'll never forget." He whispers into your skin. "Ever." He promises even more.

"_Promise me you'll come back_."

**..+..**

**Whoa. What's this? I'm back...**

**Yeah, I guess I am. It's been a helluva break, huh? Since what? Last summer?**

**I was having a rough time. I kinda still am, but I have some great friends who help, so yay. This idea came to me the other day and I couldn't shake it off. I decided to give Smitchie another try. Well, really I decided to give Demi another try. I lost my faith in her, in who she was for a long time. I actually started to hate her at one point. For a long while actually. Maybe it's because she reminds me so much of myself sometimes, too much of old ex-best friends. I don't know. All I know is that I'm glad she's getting help. Also, I miss writing. A lot. I haven't done it in forever, and I want to. **

**I'm going to be reopening my blog(the links on the profile) if people even care. I still have twitter (my screenname is bbggoodd; add me!) and I have a tumblr (also, bbggoodd...wow im so original haha). So hit me up, and we'll be friends. :D I've met some of my bestest friends through here, and I appreciate your imput.**

**Now on the story.**

**This will probably be a hell of an emotional ride. Like, **_**Teach Me Tonight **_**ride, because I kinda need to vent and be okay again, and writing's my therapy. I hope that people still care, and I hope you review. I will try to continue you this; like I said, I kinda need it. So if you like it, please review. Thanks so much for all the support. I meant it.**

**Love ya, **

**Sandy **


	2. Four Years, Six Months and Two Days

"_If I fall in the end, will you be holding on to me?__Because you, you said you'd never leave me." __She'll Never Understand_ – Matchbook Romance

**Lover Dearest**

**Chapter One**

"_**Four Years, Six Months and Two Days"**_

**Shane**

When you hear that your father's getting married again, you honestly thought a simple, "Congratulations!" would be okay and you could go on living your life. Apparently, that was not the case. "I really do not want to go." You complain to your hairstylist again, and Marie Brown rolls her eyes. The two of you are having lunch at The Ivy three days before your father wedding, and you are lamenting the fact you will have to leave the warm, amazing weather of Los Angeles for freaking New Jersey.

"Really? I don't think I caught on to that one." Marie says pointedly before stealing one of your fries, her strawberry blonde hair is flying in the slight wind. "Why didn't we go inside again?" she asks, her nose scrunching as she tries to calm her hair.

This time you roll your eyes. "Because my label is upset I'm missing the Grammy's for my father's wedding. So I have to make an appearance. Hope you're okay with showing up in _People_ tomorrow." You say, a slight sympathetic smile on your face. She narrows her eyes at you, but lets it go. Marie is a sweet girl, you think to yourself.

"Well, okay. So it's like, minus five degrees in Jersey. So what? Wear a jacket." She waves you off, grabbing some more of your fries. You push the plate towards her, sighing loudly and running a hand through your long hair. You look off to the right, watching the abundance of cars for a couple seconds before turning back to her. "It's not just that, huh?" she guesses, with a raised eyebrow.

You shake your head. "I..." you trail off before sitting up in your seat. "I just hurt a lot of people when I left. I never expected to go back." You tell her with a shrug.

Marie presses her lips together. "Are they gonna be at the wedding?"

You pause. "No." you say more confidently than you feel. "Dad didn't even like the boys. And I mean, I doubt he has kept in contact with my ex. That would be strange."

"Ah." She says with a knowing smile. "There's a girl." She points out, nibbling on a fry. You freeze and try to deny it, but she cuts you off. "No, no. Don't deny it. There's _always_ a girl."

You roll your eyes again. "Well, whatever. All I know is that I want to avoid a confrontation." You grab your burger back from the plate she has all but stolen. "You ordered food, you know?" you mockingly glare at her. She shrugs and grabs another fry from you. "I was sixteen years old. I wrote my first album about her, you know? Maybe she didn't mean anything. Maybe she was the world. I didn't stick around to truly find out." You look away again, this time focusing on a red BMW racing past in the LA traffic.

"Everyone always says the ones we love at sixteen don't mean anything – that we're too young to know what love truly is – but love at sixteen is the most passionate and I don't think anyone could disagree. You cry too much. You yell too much. You kiss too much. You smile too much. You feel too much. It's beautiful, really..." Marie trails off, her eyes fading into a memory. You look over to her with a questioning look that turns into a smile at the way her cheeks turn pink. "What I mean is that you broke a girl's heart at sixteen. It could have been everything, but it wasn't. I doubt she's still throwing darts at your picture four years later." She takes a drink of her soda.

You sigh and suddenly start laughing humorlessly. "I took her virginity the night before I left."

Marie chokes on her drink. Her eyes shoot up. "You jackass!"

You wince. "Yeah...And that's why I wanna stay far, far away."

She snorts, finally picking up her fork to eat her own food. "Honey, you've sang in front of the president. I think you can handle a jilted lover. Now, you will go home, get dressed, get on that plane, watch your father marry someone twenty years younger than him, and then come back. Two days. Harmless. Stop being a p-word."

You look at her confused, your eyebrows furrowing. "A what?"

"A pussy, Grey. A pussy. Stop being one."

You glare at her, but you pay the bill before she can put even a cent down anyways. Later on, while you're home and alone without your best friend telling you that you are a "p-word", you allow yourself to think about _her_ for a couple seconds. You wonder if she still has those innocent and playful eyes. If her smile is still wide and beautiful? And then you shake yourself out of it. It would be stupid of you to think she doesn't remember you...

With the amount of press, PR, coverage you have had the past three years, you would be surprised if there was someone who didn't know you're name. (That's not arrogant. Honest.)

_You spin my head right round, right round__  
__When you go down, when you go down, down__  
__You spin my head right round, right round__  
__When you go down, when you go down, down_

You look down to your phone that is now vibrating a storm as well as singing some generic rap song that hasn't been changed in almost two years , noticing the ID right away. You take a deep breath, almost wanting to say a quick prayer, before picking up the phone. "Hello?" you say cheerfully.

"Shane Daniel."

You sigh. "Yes, Mom?"

"What is this that I'm hearing from Marie? You have rescheduled your flight to New Jersey twice already? Are you kidding me? Your father was there for you, young man!" your mother's voice comes through your speakers. Unfortunately, you had pressed _speaker phone_ so her voice echoed in your big two room apartment. You wince and lower the volume.

"I had to do a photo shoot!" you grumble.

"Like hell you did. I want you on that plane by tonight. I already got Jack to book a flight for you. He will meet you at the airport. Do you understand me, young man? I swear to God, if you don't go..." she trails off pointedly. You groan but don't disagree. She sighs. "I'm sorry, honey. I know you aren't keen on your father remarrying, but I like her." She says a little pained. You snort. "Well, whatever. I'm his ex-wife. I'm not supposed to like her, but you're his son! Now go. You have two hours before you have to be at LAX...so you should have been there five minutes ago. Hurry!"

You roll your eyes."Love you too, Mom."

"Mhmm. Go."

**..+..**

Jack is the first friend you met in Los Angeles. He was three years older than you and instantly a god in your eyes. And then you actually got to know him.

He was nineteen, in a rock band that failed, and drank too much. And now, he's twenty-three, a solo artist and sober for the last three years, although truthfully it's probably more like the last three weeks. He's your best friend, but unlike Marie – who's stable, sweet and sisterly – Jack is that dangerous friend. He's always a blink away from breaking his own sober rules, not even including the fact that now smokes up a storm like it's healthy. He gets tattoos almost every other month and is "the worst thing that has ever happened to your image, Shane", according to just about everyone.

But you cannot _not_ be his friend. He's witty and impulsive and lyrically the best writer ever.

"Hey, man. Your mom threatened my balls if I didn't give you this." Jack says outside of LAX. His voice is hoarse and he was obviously asleep like an hour and a half ago. He has a knit hat and thick purple glasses on with a tattered black tank top. You appraise him with a frown and a roll of your eyes.

"Hey, hipster." You say, taking the ticket from him roughly.

"Yeah, yeah. Fuck off." Jack shook him off. "So why are you off to Jersey again?"

"Dad's getting married."

"Mmm. Wanna be gay? I'll be your date." Jack walks with you as you take your duffle bag out of the trunk. You bite your lip and shake your head.

"Don't tempt me." you scold him before locking the car. "Go home. Sleep. Don't get photographed or my manager will go and kill you." you slap him on his back. Jack laughed.

"I love how I'm like your mother's second child and your manager hates me? Whatever. Go do good. Come back though, k? I need you here, Shane!" Jack adds dramatically. You push him away and continue walking towards LAX's entrance. "_Promise me you'll come back!" _

You freeze but put a fake smile on your face. You wave him to him as he goes back to his car.

It's a song, you tell yourself. You wrote it. If you didn't want people saying it back to you, then you shouldn't have written it.

Besides, Jack is always going to make fun of that specific song. It was your first slow, actual, emotional song, and all the little girls were obsessing all over it. It killed you when it went number one everywhere, because she was seventeen at the time, and she would have heard it. It was everywhere. Fucking everywhere.

Sighing, you take out your phone as photographers yell your name. "You're an asshole."

"And you're a pussy." Marie says, the smile obvious in her voice. "Have a safe flight!"

You grumble back at her but hang up the phone. Your head is pounding like if a hammer decided to take residence in there. It takes you an hour before you are on the plane, and once you are – first class, thankfully (not to be arrogant or anything. Honest.) – you immediately ask for a cranberry vodka, since you're officially twenty-one now. (Thank God.)

The dates are swirling in your head. The last time you saw her was at the end of July; you were supposed to only been gone for six weeks. Instead, it's been four years, six months, and two days. Only one month into the new year, and you feel like you're starting it out wrong. Or maybe you're just scared. You feel bad about how everything went down, but at the same time, you got your dream. You got your life.

And you sure as hell didn't want to stay in that stupid hick town in Jersey.

** ..+.. **

Two hours into the plane ride you decide you probably shouldn't be drunk when you arrive so you stop asking for liquor. "Coffee, please?" you say, resignation clear in your voice.

"Milk?"

"No thank you." you say politely. Taking the hot beverage, you drink most of it in one gulp, wincing at the bitter taste. Stupid milk allergies, you think for about the millionth time in your life. For about five minutes, you just sit there, looking out the window and watching the clouds pass. Taking a deep breath and finishing your coffee, you take out your journal and try to write something, anything.

_I realize I let you down...__t__old you that I'd be around__,_ is all you get down for a while. You have the song, but you cannot find the words. You shouldn't even be thinking about her; she's a lost memory.

But you're going home now.

Home. The place that always felt like a prison. _Filled with sorrow, filled with pain__...k__nowing that I am to blame__for leavin' your heart out in the rain_,you write a bit more. Is this an apology song?, you think to yourself. Are you sorry? Was it all worth it? Groaning, you take out your phone, grateful that they allow wi-fi on the plane. _I'm so screwed_, you direct message Marie on a random social networking site. You tap your pen incessantly against the journal until the lady across the aisle gives you a dirty look.

Finally, _why?_ comes back your way.

You take a deep breath. _I sent a letter. Once. About a week after I was supposed to come back. All it said was sorry. I have to face all that. My friends. I left them. God, I don't even want to see them._, you type back to her. Her reply comes almost twenty seconds later. It was simple and it was way too harsh, and it hurt you harder than you think she meant it.

_You're a coward, Shane Grey._

**..+..**

"So..."

"So." You fidget, shoving your freezing hands into your blazer.

"You should have worn a heavier jacket."

You bite your lip. "Yeah, I get that now. I thought you were exaggerating when you said it was only twenty degrees." You mumble, shivering slightly. Your father nods shortly and points to a small worn out looking red hunchback car. "Wow. You still have that?" you ask incredulously, eying the car warily.

"Well, not all of us are big time pop stars." Your father snaps back. He looks regretful for a moment at his tone but doesn't apologize. "Come on." He waves you over, grabbing your duffle bag."How long are you here for?" he asks awkwardly. You shrug.

"Till the ceremony?"

Your father snorts."Of course. Wouldn't want to stay and actually see your family, would you?" You frown and squirm again. "You know you broke you Aunt Mary's heart when you left. And then when your mother followed! Ha. A riot." He tells you bitterly. You swallow down the bile rising in your throat and slide down in your seat when you finally get in. "And were you even going to come? You were supposed to be here about three days ago." Your dad continues his lecture attack.

You take a deep breath. "Well, with this great welcome, I wonder why I didn't come sooner."

Your father laughs humorlessly, starting the car. "Now there's the Shane I keep hearing about. Apparently, you threw a temper tantrum at a set or something?" he snorts and cuts off your explanation. "The sweet boy that I knew before that stupid summer camp would have never have done that. He knew hard work and he appreciated life, and now look at you? With your designer clothes and expensive sunglasses. You wouldn't know humility if it came and hit you on the ass."

You scowl at him. "Yes, how horrible of me to actually reach my dream. Woe you! I'm such a monster. Boo freaking hoo." You snap at him, pulling out your phone. (If anyone asked, it was because you really wanted to text Jack...but in reality, it may have been to block out the angry tears.) _I fucking hate home_, you text him.

"That's not even the point Shane." You father says, disappointment in his voice.

"No the point is, is that I couldn't stay in this freaking town and pretend to be happy anymore. I was going insane. I felt trapped and more than that, I hated who I was. I'm sorry that hurt you, but I'm not the one who stayed here. Mom asked you to come with her, to come be a part of my life and dream, and you said no. So, don't be angry now that you stayed!"

"You think I'm angry that I stayed? Hell no, kid. I love this town as much as you hate it. And I met the love of my life."

You snort. "Oh, that's nice. I'll be sure to tell mom that."

Your father laughs humorlessly again. "Don't pretend to understand love, boy. I've heard the songs you sing, and let me tell you you don't know a damn thing. Especially how you left Mitchie..." your father's voice lost its power at end of her name, and you freeze. The other man is pale and suddenly intensely looking out onto the road.

You sit up straighter, looking at him fiercely. "What about her? She was just a girl, dad. I was sixteen. Was I supposed to base my whole life on a girlfriend I had at sixteen! Because, God, I remember that lesson a little differently."

Your father doesn't say anything for a while, and you sneer at him and look out the other window. Your phone beeps. _Seriously, be gay. I won't go down on you though._, Jack replies. You actually manage a smirk before you reply. _It's okay. With the way this is going, if it will be a miracle if I'm still invited to the wedding._

"Shane, don't you care that you left people?" his voice is softer, less angry.

You look up surprised at his voice. Looking around, you realize you are getting out of the busy city the airport was in and getting into the suburbs that you were raised in. "I should have said goodbye. A true goodbye, and I'm sorry I didn't." you don't elaborate but your voice was soft as well.

"You broke that girl, Shane."

Shivers run up and down your body, and your heart suddenly feels heavy. "No, I didn't. She was the strongest girl I knew. We were sixteen, Dad." You repeat. "It was just a stupid relationship." You cross your arms as you watch more and more houses and snow and porches and bullshit suburbia life pass by. Your father just shakes his head and you close your eyes. "I'm sorry if I hurt you, dad." You say stiffly.

Your father presses his lips together. "It isn't me you need to be apologizing to." He says under his breath.

**..+..**

Her name is Daisy Roberts. She's twenty three, has black hair and striking blue eyes that seem to beam against her pale skin. Actually, she's absolutely gorgeous.

She shouldn't be, and you recognize that fact as soon as your father introduces her as his "fiancé", putting an arm over her shoulder and bringing her into his chest. You just stare at her, a little shell-shocked at how she looks in your old house, and then you stare at your old house, noticing how _old_ it actually is. "Hello." You say politely but you're already looking at the stairs, littered with toys and clothes, and then at the walls that have frames and pictures of you, of her, of random people, of a little girl.

Daisy claps her hands together, making you jump. "I made a Sheppard's Pie. Why don't you come into the dining room?" she gestures towards the left. You blink. The room, even though you haven't been in there for years, could be clearly visualized in your mind. Hell, it even smells like it used to. Sure enough, when you enter the dining room, it looks exactly how your mother left it five years ago.

It feels so fucking awkward being in this house again.

It makes your skin crawl, and you feel like throwing up, and it's suffocating you. "Wow, thank you." you manage to say, your voice hoarse. She smiles and nods, obviously proud of herself for actually talking to you. "So..." your father says, clearing his throat. He's still angry about the splat you had in the car. Swallowing hard, you look at him questioningly, still pretty pissed yourself.

(Is it so wrong that you went off to follow your dreams? Is that so wrong?)

"So." You repeat, tapping your fingers on a chair.

"Sit!" Daisy says, coming back into the dining room with the food. You take the heavy tray from her, setting it down on the table. She smiles and thanks you, and you cannot help but think that she's only two years older than you. It makes you want to throw up again. But you obey her and sit down, taking off your jacket and hanging it from the chair. Your father sits at the head of the table, and Daisy sits across from you. "So, wow. You know when your dad told me who he the father of, I didn't believe him for months. You're quite famous." She tells him with a wink, her smile friendly.

You laugh uncomfortably. "Yeah..."

"Pass the peas." Your father says to you gruffly.

Realizing the peas are right next to you, you pass them wordlessly. "Weren't the Globes the other day? Did you go? That must have been so...fabulous. Everything about Hollywood is so weird to me. I can't believe you're from here." Daisy rambles and then blushes, obviously embarrassed. "Sorry. I'm just nervous. I never met a famous person before." She laughs incredulously. You pick up your fork and put it to the food. "And now, I'm a famous person's soon to be step-mother." Both Daisy and your father jump when your fork drops on the plate, the sound echoing in the small room.

"I need to go." The words come out like one big word, and you almost trip getting out of your chair.

"Shane!" your father calls out, surprised.

You grab your jacket forcibly, already heading towards the exit. Daisy looks up alarmed. "I'm sorry. I just...have to go. Sorry." You spit out, and your eyes are blurry. You feel disoriented. You don't even realize you are outside until the sound of the door slamming reaches your ears.

And then, you're running.

Running and running, until you're at the old playground you used to go to when you were fifteen. The slides are now graffiti-ed and the swing is broken, but it still has that calming effect it used to have. For about a minute, before suddenly, the sounds of your parents fighting come to your ears, the sounds of fourteen year old Nate retching after drinking a whole bottle of Vodka when his father died follow. The images of you at your lowest, the images of your friends at their lowest, the images her at her best. You fall onto the rough grass near the swings and just breathe.

Pulling out your cell phone, you fall backwards so that you are lying down. "I can't be here." You say when the ringing stops.

You hear a sigh. "Grey-"

"No, Marie. I can't be here. I went through hell when I was a teenager, okay? My parents hated each other. Violently hated each other. Everyone thought I was gay at school. I used to be shoved into fucking lockers and called every bad word you can think of. I only had three people. Three. Three, out of the thousands in this pathetic town. And I got away. I got away from the taunts and the pain, and I went and did something with myself. Yeah, I left some girl. Yeah, I left my two best friends. But why does that mean I had to stay? I didn't want to stay." You gasp at the end of your little rant, trying to get air back into your lungs.

"Shane." You can practically hear her frown. "It's going to be okay, alright?" she says, hesitantly.

You close your eyes, and when you put your hand to your cheek, you realize you are crying. "I was in such a bad place, Marie. I hid it well, but...I was not good, okay? I was going out of my mind. I almost killed myself like three times. I had to leave. I had to." Your hand tightens in your hair. "And I'm sorry if that makes me a whiny teenager. I don't care. I really don't fucking care. Not when I'm back here, and I'm getting bombarded with memories and my dad's fiancé is my age and nothing has changed. I feel like I should just chuck myself off the nearest bridge when I'm around here."

"Okay, Shane. It's okay. I'm coming there, okay? Unless you want me to just get you a flight back. That's okay too." Your heart breaks at the care in her voice.

"Come here, please?" you ask softly.

"Okay, hon. I will."

For the next few hours, she talks to you, calms you down, makes you breathe again. And when she hangs up to get on the plane, you don't feel as lost and hurt as you did before. You stay on the grass, looking up at the slight stars that are appearing, tears staining your face. You didn't notice someone coming onto the playground. You didn't notice someone walking past the slides, the swings and go at your feet. When you do, you look up, expecting your father. Hell, even Daisy, but it was neither of them.

"Hey, Shane."

Oh, look, one of your ex-best friends. Joy.

**..+..**

**Sorry this is late guys. I've been so sick with the flu and college is killer. But here it is!**

**I hope you can understand why Shane left. And I hope it's okay if I alternate POVS for a while. There was no Mitchie in this chapter! But there were mentions. Haha She'll come up. Trust me... Anyways, what does everyone think of Shane? His Dad? Marie? Jack? ****(Funfact: Jack is based off Jack from All Time Low) Daisy? Tell me in a review! :D**

**Thanks so much for the support. It was lovely. **

**Review? **

**Sandy **


End file.
